


All My Life, I've Said Goodbye

by MouseBouse



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Battle, Fluff and Angst, Injury, Just Married, M/M, mostly happy though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-25
Updated: 2018-03-25
Packaged: 2019-04-08 02:08:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14094711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MouseBouse/pseuds/MouseBouse
Summary: Oh, yes, Alec thinks,I've actually married this man. He is still a bit sore from his injuries, and more than a little exhausted, but it's the good kind of exhaustion. Not the drained feeling he gets after long days at the Institute, no. This is that feeling one gets after they travel to the other side of the world and marry the love of their life. For the second time this week, he could add.(I promise this is not as angsty as the first part suggests.)





	All My Life, I've Said Goodbye

**Author's Note:**

> Title and lyrics from [All My Life by Tom Goss](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xVVwhXRB8wU).
> 
> My Tumblr is [here](https://mousebouse.tumblr.com) if you want to talk.
> 
> This was meant to be a lot longer, but if I don't post it as it is now, it will become one of the never finished WIPs in my folder.

Weeks later, when everything was behind them, Simon would tell Magnus and Alec how the whole thing reminded him of a season finale of a TV show. The hero and their significant other finally get to be happy, everybody gets dressed up, vows are exchanged, they kiss, the party begins, and then, suddenly, an explosion, or a phone call, or _whatever_ happens and they have to go ahead and save the world yet again.

If only they'd gotten to the kiss.

 

Shrieks of pain were piercing the air, dark clouds adding to the grim atmosphere, and enemies surrounded the group as they retreated to a small hill in the middle of the battlefield. Strategically, it wasn’t the best position, far from it, but they had no choice. Catarina was barely keeping the wards up around them – they wouldn’t stop all the attacks, but they could protect them to a degree. When the battle had begun, they’d had a fighting chance. As the time went on, though, they were getting weaker and weaker, and the number of foes seemed to be increasing. If the tide didn’t turn soon, they would lose.

Alec stood in the middle, his height enabling him to fire off arrows over Isabelle and Clary’s heads. He could feel Magnus nearby, his palms burning red with offensive magic. Suddenly, he heard his mother yell from behind him. 

“Alec!” Maryse screamed, but it was too late. Alec could only look down as a seraph blade, thrown from several yards away, lodged itself into the right side of his chest. Knocked back by the sheer force of the blow, he dropped to the ground, his bow falling from his hand. His reflexes kicked in and he tried reaching the stele in his pocket, but his arms weren’t cooperating. He felt a relief from the pain just as the darkness beckoned him. 

 

“Alec!”

Magnus heard Maryse’s voice, but it took him just a second too long to register it. He turned around in time to see Alec’s body falling, a blade glinting in what little sunlight could get through the clouds. He rushed over, kneeling next to the Nephilim, his magic turning blue, a healing spell already being murmured. Isabelle knelt down as well, her stele activating her brother’s iratzes before she pulled the knife out – Alec couldn’t heal with it in, she explained, but Magnus wasn’t paying attention. He felt himself burning from the inside, anger and grief mixing, but he pushed those feelings down. He needed to stay calm. _Alec_ needed him to stay calm. 

The battle was still in full swing, but Magnus could see only one thing – his fiancé… his _husband_ , now, on the ground, unconscious, on the very verge of death. 

“Magnus,” Maryse spoke right into his ear. He ignored her. Alec. He needed to help Alec. “Magnus!” His magic was running low, but he would gladly use up all of it if it meant saving him. “Magnus!”

“What?!” He looked at her and was greeted with tearful eyes and a hand holding a blade handle-first in front of him. The same blade Isabelle had just moments ago pulled from Alec’s chest. 

“We need you, Magnus,” Maryse told him, quietly but with determination. And wasn’t that a new one, Shadowhunters needing a Downworlder. He knew what she meant, of course. 

“Cat,” he called, “take my place.” Once she did, he stood, took the offering and nodded at Maryse in acknowledgement. 

The seraph blade lit up red as Magnus held it, the blood of a Prince of Hell running through his veins, igniting the sword’s might. His eyes glowed, warlock mark on full display, his movements precise and focused, his power amplified by rage – now that he wasn’t trying to heal, but to kill, he could unleash those cataclysmic emotions. Enemies quivered as he neared them, their legs giving out from under them, the group and their allies cleared way as he passed, knowing that this was it – their savior had arrived. Acting on pure instinct, he struck down foe after foe, his magic and the angelic powers of the blade combining to create the ultimate weapon of mass destruction: Magnus Bane. 

 

Later, much later, in the infirmary in Idris, as Brother Zachariah tended to Alec’s wounds, Magnus sat in a chair next to the bed, Alec’s hand sandwiched between his, the thick black wedding band catching on his own with every movement.

They’ve been here for two days and there was no change. _He just needs time_ , Magnus was told over and over again, _he’s strong, he’ll pull through_. Magnus knew they were right, of course – Alec has been working himself too hard lately, his body was probably just taking a well-deserved break. Still, with all the runes and magic they were sending Alec’s way, he should’ve been up by now. The warlock needn’t have worried, though, as it only took another day for Alec to wake up, and once he did, he was up and about within hours. 

About ten minutes after Alec was officially discharged, they were leaving through a portal to have another wedding, as their last one was so rudely interrupted. This time, it was a quiet affair, a mundane ceremony in Tokyo, not far from the hotel where they'd spent the night after one of their first dates. When Alec had suggested it, he was sure Magnus would call the idea cheesy. Which, to be fair, he did. But he also loved it. The event was not extravagant or over the top. The exchanging of vows was as private as it could be – Magnus and Alec, and an officiant, of course, and only one witness for each of them: Catarina as Magnus's oldest and dearest friend, and Isabelle as Alec's sister and, her words, 'Magnus's second favorite Lightwood.' They would throw a party for all of their friends and family on a different day. One when they are not all still recuperating after their latest 'big bad,' as Simon had started calling the worst threats to the Shadow World.

 

***

 

Now, after dropping Cat off at the hospital and Izzy at the Institute, the two were finally back home, for the first time in a week.

"So," Magnus starts, "how are you feeling, husband?" 

_Oh, yes_ , Alec thinks, _I've actually married this man_. He is still a bit sore from his injuries, and more than a little exhausted, but it's the good kind of exhaustion. Not the drained feeling he gets after long days at the Institute, no. This is that feeling one gets after they travel to the other side of the world and marry the love of their life. For the second time this week, he could add. 

"Alec?" Magnus calls his name, pulling him from his musings. "It is a bit late to be getting cold feet, darling." It was meant to be a joke, but there was insecurity lacing his tone. Even after all this time, he was still uncertain about this whole ordeal, and Alec can't have that.

"I'm not. How could I be," he replies. "It's just... So much has happened lately, I just want to be close to you for a minute. If that's alright.” With that, he puts his hands on Magnus’s hips, pulling him closer.

"You say the sweetest things, Alexander," his husband says, stroking his cheek with the back of his hand. Only one ring can be seen on it today. The love rune was engraved on their wedding band, right next to an ancient magical sigil meant to protect the wearer. Alec has a matching one, of course, his ring finger buzzing under the still-unfamiliar weight. 

He’d known for a while that this was it for him. That _Magnus_ was it for him. But just as Magnus had his uncertainties, Alec, too, had his. He had messed up before – he was still messing up – and Magnus was perfectly, well, _perfect_ , about it, guiding him through what a relationship is all about. Together, they've overcome many obstacles, but deep down, Alec was still worried about one day making a mistake so grave that they couldn't move past it.

Suddenly, the hand on his cheek disappears and then there are arms wounding around his neck. "What's on your mind? You seem out of it."

"I'm scared," he says honestly. Ever since the Soul Sword all that time ago, they've made an effort to always be honest with each other, no matter how small the issue might seem. Or how huge, in this particular case.

Magnus does that confused little shake of the head. "What scares you?" he asks.

"You. Me. All of this," Alec replies, gesturing to their rings and the loft they share. "Magnus, I-- I love you," he says, as if that explains everything. He tries again. "I don't want to mess this up. Mess _us_ up. And now we're married! Finally! And all I can think about is how I'm going to screw up so epically you're going to--"

"Alec!" Magnus interrupts him. Then, softer, "Alexander." Another shake of the head, this one incredulous. "Where is this coming from? We have both screwed up before. But what's that you keep telling me? ' _We always seem to find our way back to each other._ ' I believe that as long as we are both willing to work on our relationship, the relationship itself will work. And no matter how badly one of us screws up, we _will_ make it work," he promises.

"I just..." Alec stops to take a deep breath, steadying himself. "I know what you've been working on," he admits, and can see the surprise in the golden eyes. The other makes a move to step away, but he cradles Magnus's face in his hands for a second so he can see his eyes when he speaks. "I want it. Don't think for a second that I don't, or that I'm mad you didn't tell me."

"I wanted to be sure it would work," Magnus tells him, stepping back and turning toward his drink cart. "I've already gotten my hopes up, I couldn't do the same with yours."

"But it could work?" Alec asks, because he has to know. He _needs_ to know. 

"Theoretically, yes. I've consulted some other warlocks. Catarina, Tessa, even Lorenzo Rey. He was not happy about the idea, but he thinks it can succeed." 

Alec is quiet for a moment, he's willing himself not to ask his next question, but once again, he needs to know. "Magnus, are you sure you want this? Because even if it does work, I could still die at any moment. Hell, I almost did just days ago! And you’ve said it yourself before, we can’t see the future. You talk about getting my hopes up, but I would be doing the same to you every single day. I don’t want you to worry about me wasting this gift by going out and getting myself killed.” He runs a hand through his hair, a nervous habit he’d gotten better at controlling, but which still presented itself when he wasn’t paying attention. “So, please tell me you’ve thought this through and you’re really sure." He steels himself for the reply.

Magnus turns back to him, martini forgotten. "My dearest Nephilim, of course I do! Do you think I would call Lorenzo for just anyone?" He huffs a breath. "I was hoping it would be a wedding gift to you, but I still need a few hard to find ingredients."

"And after we find them?"

The warlock smiles. "After we find them, you, Alexander Gideon Lightwood, will be immortal." And damn, if Alec's heart didn't skip a beat hearing that said out loud.

"It's Lightwood-Bane, actually. Have you already forgotten we're married?" Alec teases. 

 

***

 

A while later, after dinner – Magnus’s go-to magic replenishment, steaks and martinis – they situate themselves on the couch, the warlock sitting with his back to the armrest, and the Shadowhunter between his legs, leaning back against his chest, their hands connected on Alec's stomach. Magnus kisses the deflect rune on his neck and nuzzles there, humming softly.

"What are you singing?" Alec wonders. He knows the song, has heard it before, but he can't quite place it.

Magnus snaps his fingers and music fills the apartment, quiet yet powerful.

_All my life, I’ve said goodbye_  
_To that I know to be true._  
_But you’re my light, so I’ll die trying_  
_To hold onto you._

Alec chuckles. “No dying necessary, I’m not going anywhere,” he promises and squeezes his husband’s hand just that much harder. 

“Dance with me,” Magnus says in his ear.

Over the three years they’ve been together, Alec has learned not to fight Magnus on two things: which one of them pays for dinner (“I’ve been accumulating wealth for centuries, Alexander, I’m buying.”) and joining him for a dance, so he gets up immediately and pulls the other up after him. 

They move away from the coffee table and sway, more than dance, Magnus’s hands around Alec’s waist and Alec’s arms around the warlock’s neck, fingers playing idly with the short hairs there. With how closely they are pressed together, Alec swears he can feel Magnus’s heartbeat through their shirts. “I love you,” he says, because he wants to, and because he can.

“I love you, too, _hubby_ ,” Magnus says, a smug grin spreading across his face when he sees the frown forming on Alec’s. “Too much?” he asks.

“Just a bit,” Alec admits, although his lips are turning up at the corners, “My name still works just fine.”

The warlock rolls his eyes, a result of spending too much time with Alec, and states, “Alright, then. I love you, too, _Alexander_.” He presses their foreheads together, then, and they keep swaying even though the music has faded out. 

“You know,” Magnus begins, pulling back just a breath to look into Alec’s eyes, “you still owe me a kiss.”

“Do I now?” Alec wonders.

Humming affirmatively, he explains, “Before the battle, we never got to ‘ _you may kiss the groom._ ’ So you owe me one.”

Alec smiles widely at him, the corners of his eyes wrinkling. “Well we can’t have that, can we?”

“Nope,” Magnus replies, popping the p.

They’ve stopped moving, and there is barely an inch between their lips as Alec says, "You know, sometimes the lead up to the kiss can be better than the kiss itself.”

"Maybe you just haven't had good enough kisses," Magnus teases, although he knows that to be false – all of Alec's kisses were with him, and he was a damn good kisser – literal centuries of practice and whatnot.

"They were good," Alec reasons, picking up on the joke immediately, "but the lead ups were better."

"Well," Magnus starts, mischievousness clear in his tone, "would you be willing to put that up to the test once more?" 

A grin spreads across the Nephilim's face. "Let's enjoy this for a bit longer." 

Alec closes his eyes then, savoring the moment, standing there in the middle of the loft, holding Magnus tightly. They say marriage is a new beginning, and it is. It’s the beginning of their forever, he thinks to himself as he finally presses his lips to Magnus’s.


End file.
